Under the Shadow of the Dog Star
by L-Ishida-Dark
Summary: On the night of Sirius' death, Remus drinks away the pain and remembers what they've shared. Written for rsgames round 1.


Done for the first round of the Remus/Sirius Games on Livejournal (which was ages ago, but meh). The prompt was 'We are all lying in the gutters, but some of us are looking at the stars". I was quite proud of how it turned out.

As ever, constructive criticism is appreciated.

And as we all know, characters, settings etc belong to JK Rowling.

--

The Dog Star is bright tonight.

So very, very bright. It almost hurts my eyes. Or maybe that's just me, because nobody else seems to have noticed. And they're all so busy, so caught up in saving the world. Which is great, it's brilliant, of course it is, and it needs to be done, but when we save the world, who'll save us? When we've won the day, who'll be there to pat us on the backs and say "Well done, mate, you did it"?

You won't any more, Sirius.

You were supposed to always be there.

Marauders stick together.

And you stood by me.

I was too scared to believe in you, too angry, too…too…too _something_. And you always believed in me. And look where that got you. I never thought I'd say this, but you'd have been better off in Azkaban.

The stars blur before my eyes. I lie back and I think of you.

And you're fading already.

And it'll never stop hurting.

And because I'm the last, the only one left, the only one who remembers the way you truly were, I have to remember every moment. Even the bad. Even the times I despaired. Even your wide eyes, your open mouth, your clutching hands, the rippling veil, the long, long fall. Even if it hurts so much I'm sure I'll die, I'll hold onto every moment. Because if I don't, who will?

So I lie here, here on the street outside the house you never really wanted, and I stare up at the stars, and I remember. All the first times, all the last times, all the moments that changed our lives forever.

Under the shadow of the Dog Star, I'll tell myself our story.

--

The first time I ever saw you. I was afraid. My father dropped me off at the station and although I'd wanted more than anything to go, I was suddenly terrified. I clung to his shirt, begged him not to leave me. And, gruff Yorkshire man as he was, he just gave me a quick hug and steered me onto the train. And I fought him. And then I saw you, Sirius. You looked like you couldn't get to Hogwarts quickly enough. You and James…it seemed like you'd known each other for years. And you looked so cool, with your long-ish black hair and your bright eyes and your amazing grin. And I thought _if there are people like this at Hogwarts, then it can't be bad._ You looked like the sort of person I'd dreamt about being friends with. I followed you with my eyes for the length of the corridor. And then I shook myself and went away to read in my own lonely compartment. Because you were above me.

--

The time I realised I loved you came much later, and it's not like they tell you. You don't wake up and just go "hey, I'm gay and I'm in love with Sirius Black!" It sort of gradually grew; it came from my early infatuation, it came from the time you first spoke to me, it came from the hundreds of thousands of times I risked life and limb (or at least my education) in just having a laugh, it came from the full moons you spent by my side, it came from every moment I spent with you. It grew with me as I changed from a shy little child to Remus Lupin, to Moony, the brains and sense of the Marauders. I think it took me until I was about fifteen to actually work out what it was I was feeling. And I didn't dare act. Because still, you were above me. And I liked you to be there.

--

You know what the starry night reminds me of, Sirius? We kissed on the top of the Astronomy Tower. I don't know if you even remember. But I'll never forget. Because it was the first time. They say you never forget the first time. Did you forget it, Sirius? Or did you, like me, remember it when everything seemed too bad to carry on? Did it play through your mind when you were in Azkaban? Did you remember the feel of hands on skin and in hair and tongues sliding in between teeth and lips locked tight together? I suppose I'll never know now.

--

The way we lived, Sirius. The way we were then. When we were children. You know, Harry's about the same age as we were then. And, like us, he's seen things children should never had to see. But it's been worse for him, so much worse. I had you, see? And when I was with you, love, everything was all right. There was a war outside the school's walls, and it didn't matter.

--

Even after we left school, we were still together, so I could cope; in fact, it was the best time of my life. Summer of '79. The world was in chaos. And I was at peace. Well, kind of. I saw terrible things, terrible, terrible things, but you saw far worse. And you still kept me strong. And I loved you more than anyone could ever, ever imagine. We hadn't yet become adults, we were no longer children. And it was the last summer before we moved into the real world. And we had the most fun I think anyone can have without their hearts exploding. Did you remember, Sirius? Did you remember the night we camped in the woods outside my house, and you pointed out the dog star, and we laughed for ages and tried to find the wolf star and the rat star and the stag star and then Prongs pointed and said "there!" He said that the little cluster of stars around Sirius were the Marauders, and he said…what was it?…"Actually, Mr Padfoot, if I may make so bold as to point out that there are actually _two_ Siriuses. Thus, I put it to you, one and all, that the little diddy one next to the Dog Star is you, Pads, since Lily is clearly the brightest star in the sky."

He was wrong. It was sweet, and sappy, and he was thoroughly thrashed for it, and he was definitely wrong. Sirius, you were always the brightest star in the sky. You were the brightest thing I'd ever seen.

--

But they were really, truly in love, those two. Like we were. And oh, the look on your face when they were married. Like a proud father, and sort of jealous at the same time. And you were so hyper, and you got totally pissed at the reception, and we ended up kissing outside to the pounding beat of music through the walls. And I don't think I ever loved you more. We were young, we had our lives ahead of us, we were the Marauders, invincible and together forever, and nothing Voldemort could do would break us apart. We were sure of it in the depths of our cocky teenaged souls. Voldemort couldn't hurt _us_. That happened to other people; people we knew, maybe, but not the Marauders. Never the Marauders.

It's strange, isn't it, how blue skies turn to storms without warning?

--

How did it feel to find them, Sirius? How badly did it hurt to find their bodies? How much did you weep to see the corpses of the people you loved, lying together, side by side? I guess I'll never know. But I know how it felt to have everything you loved taken away from you, Sirius. I know that more than anybody. One moment you were smiling, tickling Harry's little stomach as he squirmed in delight, Lily and James laughing, Pete looking on, seeming happy, and I loved you and I loved my friends and I loved my life, and then BAM! Like a Bludger to the stomach, or slipping and falling, or a sudden thunderstorm on a clear day. Lily and James and Peter dead, Harry sent to live with Muggles, and you, Sirius…

Your loss hurt the most.

You were the one who I cared about the most. You were the closest to me. You were the one I'd always wanted to be. And I felt betrayal harsher than anything I'd ever known before.

"I KILLED THEM!"

I think I know what went through your mind as you shouted those words, but why? Why? You left me certain of only one thing, and that was your guilt. Imagine how it was for me. I loved you, Sirius. I loved you! And everything I knew was ripped away in an instant, leaving a void.

You kissed me goodbye that night, and I thought you'd return.

You never did.

Because to me, you were dead. For thirteen years, you were dead to me, because there was no Sirius Black, no Padfoot, no Sirrie. There was only a faded photographs, and the memories. And I hated you more than you could ever imagine. You knew more pain than me, more sadness, more sorrow, but I tell you, Sirius, you, for all your family history and loathing of Peter Pettigrew, you never knew hate like I did.

Love warped into hate is a force of nature. It could move mountains. And, locked into the body of loyal, loving, needing Remus, it ripped up photographs and corrupted memories, it revelled in the pain of full moon wounds and wished each and every scratch on you, it wanted you dead.

And when I saw you again, I truly didn't know whether to kiss you or kill you.

I settled for punching you as hard as I could, several times, tears streaming down my face, and you just stood and took it. It only made me angrier, it only saddened me more, and the tears fell faster and I pummelled your poor starved, broken body and you didn't move, didn't defend yourself. And I wanted to scream "FIGHT!" I thought Azkaban had truly broken you, and the beast howled in delight and I howled in the renewed loss.

You stood and you let me hit you until I all but collapsed and your thin hands reached for me before I could pull away. Your lips were cool, your breath harsh, your mouth tasted of rotten meat and despair. It was like kissing Death, and yet it brought me back to life. And when you spoke, my mind didn't believe you at first, but my heart knew you'd never lie.

--

Oh, I hoped. I hoped against hope that you could be free.

But the people that mattered knew you were innocent. I knew, and Dumbledore, and Harry…I couldn't bear it, the look of hatred on Harry's face when he saw your face before he knew, it tore me apart…and maybe we could survive? The heart that had been twisted and blackened by betrayal and loss now burned with a fierce flame for you and only for you. To kiss you, to touch you, to wake up in the night and feel your warmth beside me, to watch you grow from a skeleton back to a man…I was so glad. And I had such hope.

Why does hope never turn out well for me?

We needed more time. A little more time, and a little more after that, but just one more kiss. One more night. Thirteen years stolen from us, and I didn't do enough to win them back.

And I held Harry back. You understand, don't you, Sirius? I wanted to leap after you, just as he did, every muscle in my body wanted to follow you. You were all I had left of the old days. But it doesn't matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't let Harry go after you, so I couldn't do it myself. James'd skin me alive if any harm came to his son.

But I don't know what to do, Sirius. I really don't. You're gone, and nothing will ever be the same. And life will keep on going on, no matter how much I wish it wouldn't. It's damn hard to kill a werewolf.

Maybe I'll learn to live with it, like I learnt to live with the full moons and the loss of my parents and the betrayal of Wormtail and the sudden lack of James and Lily.

It's hard to tell.

You've been gone twenty-five hours now, unless my watch has broken, which I think it must have. It seems far longer.

And I don't know how I'll feel in six months' time.

But now there's a Sirius-shaped hole in the world, and tears caught in my throat, and an empty bottle clasped in my hand like I could drag you back into the world with it.

And the Dog Star is fading.


End file.
